the date
it was late when my date entered
the kitchen closed, but the waiter served
We had gateau with white wine, but he refused
to give me red wine as it doesn't go
well with cakes
she drank a whole bottle and got giggly
at an outdoor kiosk, I bought two
hot dogs, one with mustard, the other
with ketchup, I ate both; she was in
the back throwing up.
I was not in a good mood when she
refused to come to my flat, the rain
didn't help
I walked her to the bus stop, and she
caught the last bus back to her parents
Chubs is gravely flat.
We remove our hats.
Her wheel deflated him—
Chubs, my cuddly cat.
Flounder is lying flat,
ambling on his back.
Her croutons choked him—
Flounder, my friendly catfish.
Gopher is resting back-flat,
striking position for naps.
Her diabolical chocolate gateau
snuffed him out almost.
Gopher rose once again,
my mangy mutt, back-to-life.
Ma decried; she'd die
in a reindeer stampede
Pour your heart out, let it flow.
Like a river's torrent, let it go.
On your bare arms let it glow.
Let its rhythmic pulse show,
that you really, truly, deeply can bestow
pure, stark, emboldened emotions all aglow.
With heart exposed, a sleeve gateau.
It's the 3rd of the month
An excellently important day
5 decades or so ago,
My parents made a little 'roll in the hay'
Tonight, I'm spoiling myself
Going out for dinner el solo
Down to my favourite local Bistro
For Salmon Wellington, Cab Sav and Gateau
Made sure I phoned ahead,
with 3 weeks to go
Booked a delicious pescatarian meal
And a table outside, on the patio
I arrived with a grin
And was shown to a shabby table inside
Served Beef Wellington, Sav Blanc,
And for dessert, a Mince Pie!
Why? What? How could this be?
I immediately called for the Chef
Oh Lanser, how could you get this so wrong
Have you recently gone stone deaf?
No! He said, in his monotone
And pulled from his pocket an email
You sent us this note just yesterday
Updating your culinary detail
But it wasn't... I didn't.... Who could it have been?
To know that I'd definitely be here
Someone who would sabotage my effulgent glory
And rob me of my cheer?
Then it dawned on me
Who sabotaged my favourite night
It was my horrible ex-wife
She's darn clever, evil and so full of spite
BAKED ALASKA GRINNED THROUGH THE SNOWY WINDOW,
CREPE-SUZETTE NICELY SAT ITSELF ON A FANCY PLATE BELOW,
NEW YORK CHEESECAKE WAS FIT AND STRAIGHT FROM QUEENS,
STICKY TOFFEE PUDDING CLUNG ITSELF WHATEVER THAT MEANS.
THE LADY CHEF WITH THE COOKING CAP WRESTLED WITH SPUN SUGAR,
WHICH WRAPPED ITSELF AROUND HER GENEROUS BOSOM THUS FAR;
ORANGE PUDDING WAS SET IN ITS WAYS, GELATINE HAD GOOD DAYS,
STRAWBERRY GATEAU EASED ITS WAY BETWEEN LIPS MOST WAYS.
IT WAS CLOSED ON A SUNDAE BUT OPEN AGAIN ON MONDAY,
YOU COULD SEE THE LADY WITH THE CAP CHASING PANCAKES AWAY,
THE CREAM IS BETTER HERE - NONE OF THAT SLOPPY THIN STUFF,
YOU KNEW AFTER ALL THE 'SLIP AND SLIDE' - YOU'D HAD ENOUGH.
CHOCOLATE RAN DOWN THE SIDE OF FRUIT, STAND AND STARE,
THE COATING WAS ENOUGH - I'VE ALWAYS LIKED A NICE PEAR.
A palette of the mind,
Crayola colors now entwine
and symmetry thus unwinds
life is never color-blind.
Dreaming seas of abstract bliss,
waves of chromatic kinesis;
I would be, oh so remiss,
if inspiration, I dismissed.
As I awaken and grab a brush,
muse I never dare to hush,
to paint and easel, I do rush;
and allow her joys to gush.
Such elation she bestows,
as pigmentation begins to flow,
as if she’s dining on gateau,
dream-images emboldened glow.
Paris by night is gay,
I prefer Paris by day
I love the ambience and style,
French fashion stands out a mile,
From all the others in that trade,
The best designs are Parisienne made.
The French have flair beyond compare,
I praise the food and savoir-faire
Visiting a French bakery
For cafe au lait, gateau or tea,
Little bistros are a treat,
Place where young lovers meet.
Romance in Paris Ooh La La,
For love, one does not need to look far.
Couples walking hand in hand,
It could be just a one night stand.
The French love to love, so they say,
Even if it lasts for just one day.
The feeling of romance is everywhere,
Strains of music in the air.
People reading while sipping wine,
The atmosphere is simply divine.
The lake shimmers like glass
As children's toy yachts come bobbing past.
I have lost all sense of time, as I'm
Captured by the contentment on the faces
Of people of different ages and races
Enjoying their day,
In their way.
Awaiting bristled whisper of ghost jounced leaves
Lain gazing galaxies far from terra's tarpaulin roof
Exciting diamonds claw for cosy navy ink reprieve
Hark my insignificance in succinct majesty's truth
Hushed by muchness, my warmth absorbs His plenty
Lapped by luminous lure, iced gateau half eaten moon
Crumbled among sudden calm of Master's immensity
Awash in melodic acknowledgement, midnight's tune
Flung hungry flouresce of surged fireflies fighting
Tenure very temporary, attempt to reach realisation
Spread as cake laden table, sugary array imbibing
Drunk on the gifts of gateau smile faced dedication
Heavy sun slumbers elsewhere, heat not apparent
Reality rests unreadable, dispelled from night haven
Swum in wonder of dark desire, denying my errant
Shot stars instrusive find my heart entirely enslaven
19th October 2020
Written for Contest : Collaboration
Sponsored by: Silent One
One last thing, middle thing, or first thing before I go
No matter which direction, love always follows
There's no competition
It's not just tradition
It's what it's all about, it's icing on the gateau
One last thing, middle thing, or first thing before I go
Not matter which direction, love's still the top show
There's no competition
It's not just tradition
It's what it's all about, it's the icing on the gateau
Slowly
ever so slowly
overcome with emotion
building up ever so effortlessly
inside
passions burning ever so swiftly
reside
deep in my heart
sweet smells of your luscious gateau
roam free
a slight breeze blows in your hazel hair
enhancing your essence
enticing me
slowly
ever so slowly
I wrap my arms around your
aphrodite-esque waist
squeezing ever so slightly
whispering
"love me"
Slowly
ever so slowly
overcome with emotion
building up ever so quickly
inside
passions burning ever so quickly
reside
deep in my heart
sweet smells of your luscious gateau
roam free
a slight breeze blows in your hazel hair
enhancing your essence
enticing me
slowly
ever so slowly
I wrap my arms around your
aphrodite-esque waist
squeezing ever so slightly
whispering
"Make love to me"
Rhythmic creaks and gentle squeaks
from the withered old wooden rocking chair
fill the sweltering late summer afternoon air
a peaceful breeze blows across his tepid brow
the old man begins to weep
as he thinks of his wife inside
Drips and drops and a little splash
fall down into the half-full sink
a lemon scent mixed with her lilac essence
warm the cozy spotless kitchen
The old woman plates coffee gateau
smiles and sits next to him
offering a taste of her treat
Rich creamy chocolate and a hint of hazelnut
he savors every bite of her love
He smiles and whispers
how lucky he is to have her
Cakes & Ale
I woke up in a bakery they do start early, the aroma of bread
is wonderful, they were also making cakes, whipping creams.
Napoleon cakes and Danish pastry, black forest gateau and other
pastries I have as a child looking through the windows of a bakery
shops admired. Too much, I walked outside and lit a ***, inhaled
deeply and the tobacco soothed my mind, giving me a feeling of
fullness. It was only then I remembered I have diabetes, a heart
problem and have not smoked for 15 years. Has it been worth it
this forgoing of the good thing in life; I’m not sure, it may extend
my life for a few more years of pain and misery, will I die regretting
the cakes I didn’t eat and the fags I didn’t smoke?
In the middle of the night,
When the moon shines bright,
A creature stirs with a terrible bite,
And his name is Spoonfang.
This vampire with a spoony face,
Has developed quite the taste,
For creatures of the pudding race,
Has the greedy Spoonfang.
So when the stars through dark clouds peek,
Into the kitchen he will creep,
And a tasty snack he’ll sneak,
Will the crafty Spoonfang.
Mousse and trifle, cake of cheese,
Ice-cream left in the deep freeze,
He’s had a bite of each of these,
Has the naughty Spoonfang.
But tonight he’s set his eyes,
Not on mother’s tasty pies,
But on Gran’s birthday surprise,
A gateau all for Spoonfang.
And so he creeps along the floor,
Tip-toes to the kitchen door,
But someone else is there before,
The bold and daring Spoonfang.
Count Spatula! The greatest Pudding Vampire of them all!
Both the vampires get a fright,
Their screams echo through the night,
And someone switches on the light,
On Spatula and Spoonfang.
Mother tuts and shakes her head,
Sends son and father back to bed,
Neither vampire has been fed,
Not Spatula nor Spoonfang.
Maybe there’s a little Pudding vampire in all of us!
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